


Night flying

by ClaraCivry (Kat_Of_Dresden)



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Character Study, Flying, Hurt Kurt, Kurt Wagner whump, Post-X-Men: Apocalypse (2016), Warren tries to be a good guy, Warren tries to build something decent after getting himself killed, Warren's death fix it, bridal carry, idk how to tag this, some Nightangel feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-18 17:59:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16521956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat_Of_Dresden/pseuds/ClaraCivry
Summary: Warren finds Kurt shot and passed out and tries to fly him to safety, despite his many conflicting thoughts.Some Kurt whump and nice guy Warren, post movie.





	Night flying

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this lovely piece of fanart https://penciler-grazie.tumblr.com/post/179629291510/halloween-prompt-crow (that I changed up to include Warren because I HAD TO lol)

Warren didn't know why he was doing this. Getting this mutant out of trouble, out of the danger they'd both being in and into someplace safe. Why? This guy had hurt him, this guy had dragged through some electrified fence and effectively fried one of his wings, which had been the beginning of the whole debacle that had ended with him, simply put, getting himself killed. Over what? Over some dude who had used and abused them, some guy whose crusade he'd never been a part of.

Some mutant who the power to restore life (he didn't know who they were, as whoever it was left before he could discern anything properly) had found him in the rubble, returned him and some others to life. And Warren had really not known what to do with himself. He should be glad to have this second chance, but he felt... lost. Like he didn't belong anywhere.

He had no place with regular humans because they a) were afraid of him and repulsed by him, like anti-mutant and all sorts of haters or b) thought that he was some sort godsend and did awkward things like pray to him or ask him to perform miracles. Whoever they were they looked at him differently. And with mutants... He didn't want any more fanatics, he didn't want any more fights and he'd fought against the people who ran a safe place for mutants (he'd lost count of the times people had told him to go to Xavier's school, _dude, I fought Xavier himself, I can't show my face there_ )....

The thing was he had nowhere to go, but he was alive again, no matter the state. (His regular wings were back, the metal disappearing into dust s Apocalypse was defeated) He probably would have stayed dead, forever, if that particular mutant hadn't spotted him. It was chilling thought. He would have died for a cause he barely believed in, when he wasn't even twenty buried under the rubble of his mistakes. Failed, forgotten and dead. Useless.

For a long time he had blamed that blue boy for his wretched state. If it hadn't been for the incredible Nightcrawler he wouldn't have found himself where he had, he probably would have shrugged off Apocalypse, or at least... No. Blaming “the incredible Nightcrawler” was not fair, not at all. They had been fighting, and blue boy had simply bested him – Warren's mistakes were his own.

Blue boy had never wanted to hurt him, in fact he hadn't even touched him until Warren himself had told that they would both be killed if he didn't fight. Blue boy's concern was getting out of there, and doing so alive. And he had even felt bad when he hurt Warren, apologised profusely, unlike him who hadn't felt bad at all about defeating all his opponents in the ring. Blue boy had only being surviving, and at least he'd felt bad about hurting him.

Blue boy had been sold into that, blue boy had been taken on a fucking electrified cage and into that fighting ring. He'd been a victim of circumstance, and Warren had just been angry that he'd been defeated so easily. That he'd been defeated twice by the same guy, after they fought again in Cairo. Even without metal enhancements, blue boy was the better fighter. In another life, maybe they would have been friends, maybe this Nightcrawler could have given him fighting tips.

But in this life, blue boy had barely escape the wrath of an anti mutant group, and had ended up unconscious and bleeding in a forest, hunted by those angry men and women and at the mercy of wolves and other dangerous animals. Warren had only escaped their guns and tasers and whatnot because he'd flown away, but blue boy had been trying to get everyone out, save the others and not just himself, and he'd got shot in the shoulder and stomach as thanks for his efforts. He teleported away, but not far enough before passing out. Warren had been almost glad to see a familiar face among all the haters, but didn't like how everything had turned out for the other mutant.

And some part of Warren had decided that this was wrong, that this couldn't stand. Blue boys was dying - he was going to bleed out in not too long, or maybe one of those bullets had damaged a vital organ... It wasn't fair. He got a second chance, and blue boy deserved many more than that – being a good person like he was. Maybe this would help... mend bridges or something, fix the mistakes he'd made. Try go to construct himself a future, not fighting others like he'd always done (like he'd got himself killed), but helping others, like this guy did, this guy who was a much better warrior, who had friends, a place to go back to... So Warren simply used some parts of his shirt to try and stop this guy from bleeding out before they got somewhere better, tied the boy's tail to his jacket and took him in his arms.

It felt... good. The moons shone on them on him and his white wings, on the injured boy's unmoving face, the cold wind moving softly his dark hair. In that moment, Warren felt strangely well, and at peace with himself and the world. He had a mission, he had somebody who needed him, and he was flying in the cold starry night. For a moment, everything in the world seemed to make sense, and he owed it all to this strange boy in his arms. He felt more alive than he'd ever been, he felt whole. And despite the other boy's worrisome condition, he didn't feel alone in that night, in that dangerous forest.

And now they were flying away, and blue boy was still bleeding, bad, and those haters were gaining on them, and Warren didn't really know why he was doing this. His wings had healed, but the extra weight of the boy was making him slower. But he had to get them both to safety and quick, because blue boy may not have long to live, and neither did he if he was caught. And for the first time in a long time, he was afraid. He didn't want to die, he wanted to help this boy and he wanted to... make a difference, be important. He was done with being useless, he was done with being shunned from his family, having no friends, having no place to go, finding solace only in alcohol and fights. He wanted to be better, and he could be better.

Blue boy could teach him how to be a better person – he could teach him how to be as badass as he was, he could... he could be his salvation. So Warren hung on to blue boy, held on tightly to this stranger as they flew on that cold night. He needed to get him to some medical care, but as he flew and flew, Warren could only see forest and forest. If they went the other way the anti-mutants would see them, and they were not shy with their guns. This was... not good.

But this time he couldn't screw up. He would show blue boy and the rest of the world, that he wasn't useless, that he wasn't just someone you could easily write off. He would be a hero, and then everybody would have been wrong about him, and he would... he would have a place to go, and a place to be in.. maybe even a friend?

“I'm not going to fail you, Blue. This time, I'll make things the right way.”

The right way was getting harder, though. Someone had spotted their shadows on the air, and now there were people who could see them thanks to torches and lights and who were shooting at them. And Warren wasn't fast enough to get away from every single bullet. Fortunately, the light in their direction made the mutant in his arms stir.

“Hey, hey, we need to get out of there. Can you take us somewhere safe?”

Kurt opened his eyes lazily and beyond the world of pain he was in he saw a somewhat familiar face and heard the gunshots. Instinctively, he teleported away.

Warren found himself flying in front of Xavier's school, and this time he didn't hesitate getting inside.

“Help, somebody!”

And so blue body was taken from him, although it took them a while to unattach the tail, that had been so tightly wound on him... It was the good thing, and Warren was glad not to have screwed this up, but... He felt suddenly empty. He had felt so good flying with that boy in his amrs, and now... He was lost, again.

Other people were coming. The Stormy girl that had fought with him in Cairo was there too, and seemed actually glad to see him alive. She (and a lot of the others) was super glad that he'd saved blue boy (who had a name and his name was Kurt and everybody called him that) and offered him some food, a bed, a room and some clothes and shower to wash off the blood. He hadn't realised that he was drenched in blue- in Kurt's blood.

He tried to think about something else, but found it difficult. He reached for that tail that had been wrapped around him, and found nothing.

 

*

 

When Kurt woke up, there were two voices chatting and he had a hard time remembering where he was, what had happened. He remembered the guns and the angry faces. He remembered being shot... and being flying, somehow. His stomach and shoulder were bandaged, but it still hurt to move. It hurt a lot, despite all the pills and the medicine he'd been given.

“Hey.” One of the voices had been Ororo's. “Don't move too much, you're still recovering.”

“Vas... what.... what happen?”

“You were shot. Warren found out passed out, flew you out.”

This was... odd. This was obviously Storm praising him and he didn't know where to look.

“Angel boy...” Kurt's voice said, in a whisper.

“It's... it's Warren.”

“We were flying..” Kurt said, still not fully conscious, but remembering somthing. A presence of leather and feathers, and the cold night. “... it was.... so good...” His tail wanted to get out from under the sheets and jump at that boy's arm again, but he was too tired.

“It was good, wasn't it? When you're better we can fly more again.”

Kurt smiled and fell asleep again.

Warren sighed a content, satisfied sigh.

Maybe his home, his place in the world wasn't a stone building, a mission for greatness. Maybe his home was little moments, when he could fly away with someone who loved doing just that. Home didn't have to be a room with a bed and a window. Home could be the feeling of someone's tail wrapped around you, as unexpected and sudden as it may seem...

Warren half smiled. This time, he meant to stay home.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked! Thanks for reading!
> 
> I am dyyyyyyyyying for some feedback! You know you want to comment!


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